


Firsts

by v_xiii



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Without Exposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_xiii/pseuds/v_xiii
Summary: Red discovers his body is capable of something unusual for an Irken





	Firsts

They force their fingers into Red’s mouth, using the grip on his jaw as leverage to force his head back into the sheets. When he gags a warning of sickness they’re withdrawn only long enough to slap him. All the while their other hand is inside him, groping and fingering him rough enough that pain overshadows any pleasure- not that it was ever their purpose anyway.

“Put your hands on my cock.” It’s a command, and when Red doesn’t respond fast enough they slap him again, hard enough his head lurches to the side, imprint of their hand burning on his skin. Blindly, he raises shaking palms to their abdomen and feels his way down to reach the stiffening crux. “Good boy,” Their fingers return to Red's mouth as he awkwardly fondles them, their digits subtly move in and out, in and out past the seam of his lips. Those at Red’s cloaca do the same, bucking and scissoring as they zealously resume fucking him as preparation. 

Red’s mouth is voided only for them to cruelly pull on his antennae instead, yanking his head back and forcing him to look his rapist in the eye. Their mouth hovers right over his, close enough that Red can feel the heat of their breath in his mouth, rancid scent translated to taste overwhelming him. They suck his lips and taste his mouth as his whimpers turn to sobs, throat grating painfully around attempts for air with his head forced so far back. They mutter praise into Reds mouth when he manages to stroke their erection full- the fingers leave his cloaca, finally, but their tongue is replaced with the taste of himself as Red is forced to lubricate their fingers himself. 

They lower themselves onto him, hips to hips, and grind their stiffness between his legs. When their digits are sufficiently wetted they hook them on his bottom teeth once more and pull his mouth wide open- face near flush with Red’s, chuckling, they let a long rope of saliva ooze into his open mouth. 

“There's going to be so much of me in you, when I’m done.”

They force their mouth against his once more- this time while a hand snakes down to spread the meagre lubricant between them.

Like always he’s entered too fast, too rough, and that indescribable pain he’s still not accustomed to sends stars bursting through Red’s vision. The white hot pain between his legs makes him sob, undignified, as his rapist wastes no time to begin pumping into him without restraint. At first it’s agonizing, flesh on flesh too close, but Red’s body has begun to do something curious when he’s assaulted; gradually his body slicks itself and that which is inside him. A few moments of agony then the burning subsides enough for him to compose himself, to catch his breath. 

Red closes his eyes, grateful at least he will no longer be the terrified plaything they desire- pitifully sobbing and wailing while he’s assaulted, begging for an end to it. This is still degrading, painful, but bearable. He subtly shifts his legs and hips, allocating as much room as possible for his intruder. _Just a few minutes_ he tells himself, _Just a few minutes and they’ll be done._ His thoughts are interrupted when they change position, hooking one of Red’s lithe legs over their shoulder. They grip his thigh hard using it as leverage to thrust into him faster, deeper, and Red is back to gasping.

“Fuck, you feel _good_ ,” 

Briefly, Red agrees. He quickly shakes the thought away, but it’s undeniable that something about this position and their anatomy meeting just so makes Red’s body respond more than before. For the first time their flesh is no longer catching inside him, friction no longer burning him, now Red realizes underneath the pain lies something else; suddenly there’s a warmth at the base of his belly and buzzing in his skull. 

“So wet for me.” 

Red finds he's lacking the capacity to be disgusted with himself, as the heat quickly spreads with his pulse until it's occupied every inch of him. Back arched off the bed, eyes half lidded, tears still drying on his face, Red moans. It’s long and low and unlike any noise he’s made for his captors before.

“Look at him- is he going to come?”

“He loves it, look at his eyes!”

There are others in the room, some who already had their turn. Red no longer cares that he’s giving them what they want- a spectacle, a show, something with which to shame him later. This is much more urgent than his modesty.

They break rhythm to pull both of Red’s legs back around their waist, and drag him closer so their crotches are flush. Red whines while he’s repositioned, missing that fullness and warm feeling. It’s a new and terrifying sensation, but already he is consumed by it.

“He’s already a slut.”

“You want it?” Red hums and nods in response, “Tell me you want it.”

Beside himself, voice low with desperation, Red obeys: “I want it, please, please, I-“ He cries out when they push back into him without warning- evidently they too missing the union- but like his shame that pain is short lived. Soon he’s moaning and purring with every hard thrust into him. He pulls his hands above his head in what looks like a luxurious stretch, claws grabbing onto fistfuls of sheets. He parts his legs so wide it’s almost painful, an invitation to be used deeper, harder. They grip his chest, thumbs digging into his sternum to steady themselves, and do so; driving into Red so hard the small of his back cramps and the breath is stolen from his lungs.

“Look at me, remember I’m the one who did this to you. I’m the first one. You’re gonna want more of this for the rest of your life.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes-“ He moans over and over until stars blind him once more, but this time there’s no pain, only pleasure so all consuming he can no longer think. He cries out wordlessly as he finishes and every muscle in his body seems to tense, back arching, fists clenching and toes curling, body tightening rhythmically around his assailant. They’re pushed over their own precipice and Red does all he can to roll his hips against theirs to prolong that beautiful pressure. 

For a moment Red is something separate from the machine on his back, but just as electric. At the same time he is not being used against his will, or used in any way, but is simply pulled along by the realization of all the belongings of his body. Expanding and contracting, hot and cold and wet all at once, twitching from this new pulse coursing through him parallel to the blood in his veins. He doesn’t realize it but he’s moaning and puling, in ecstasy outside of his mind and his circumstances.

Then it’s over.

Gradually Red comes back to himself to find them planting kisses and bite marks all over his flushed shoulders and chest- all they can reach while still inside him. The stench of their breath makes bile rise in Red’s throat. He blinks his vision back to normal and swallows down the urge to vomit. The heat of orgasm that filled him moments before quickly curdling into an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. He turns his head to try and escape that smell. 

“You’ll beg for someone to fuck you this good again,” 

_Very pleased with yourself, aren’t you?_ Red wants to retort, but he’s long since learned to keep his mouth shut. They have him pinned by the arms now and grin looking down at him, surveying the body they’ve desecrated. He knows this smug, ugly face and rancid scent will be burned in his memory for a very long time. Red’s face doesn’t betray his disgust, or hatred, or the shame taking hold of him.

They groan, and Red winces when he’s finally voided, feeling what rushes out- more mortified by the knowledge that a portion of it is his. Their cock drips some on his belly. His legs ache. 

They lean forward and give Red one last sloppy, fetid kiss. When they pull away a rope of saliva stretches and snaps between them, falling back against Red’s chin.

“What do you say?”

_Fuck you._

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeehaw. I know this is nasty, I’m sorry. Don’t read that sentence as Red ‘wanting it’ or anything, he just forgets his circumstances for a moment in orgasm. I’m not saying he’s enjoying it overall.
> 
> Yes that’s a reference to I Sing the Body Electric by Walt Whitman.


End file.
